


Cracks in Destiny

by Lytri



Series: Works I'm Winging At [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea, Jealous Arthur, M/M, Magic Revealed, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Secret Identity, is this angst?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7783438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lytri/pseuds/Lytri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin, forced to use his magic for Arthur's safety, is met with Arthur's rage.  Fleeing before something potentially life threatening could happen to him, Merlin leaves Camelot, fully intending to never return.  But Arthur could never manage to stay out of trouble, and Merlin never could leave Arthur alone.  That doesn't mean Arthur had to know it was him, of course.</p><p>(Formerly named <i>The End of Destiny</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but I was just in the mood for an unhappy fic. I have no idea if it will remain unhappy or not as well, just as a fair warning. I usually wright with no concrete outline. 
> 
> This one-shot has now become a story! With only one chapter so far………though I did edit it to make it longer.

# Chapter 1

 

Walking alongside Arthur, who was sitting on his horse exerting no energy at all, they approached Camelot, the gates just coming into view. They were back from a long hunt, and Arthur, being his usual self, was being an insufferable prat. Sometimes Merlin was tempted to use his magic to make Arthur fall in the mud their horses were walking over. Maybe he would even be lucky and there would end up being some horse poop in the mud that Arthur would “unfortunately” fall face first into. At imagining the horror on Arthur's face as he fell into mud and horse feces, Merlin couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

“What's got you so amused?” Arthur asked while glancing over at Merlin, having caught his amused smirk. He slowed his horse even more while looking down at Merlin, expectantly looking at him.

“Nothing, sire,” Merlin said, failing miserably at keeping his amusement out of his voice. “Nothing at all. I was just…thinking about typical peasant things. Nothing that the prince should be concerned about.” Merlin said.

Arthur gave Merlin a look that told him how much he believed him. “Have I ever told you were a terrible liar? Because I am quite certain I've literally spelled that out to you over a dozen times and yet it never seems to get through your thick head.”

“And have I ever told _you_ that you're a prat?” Merlin countered. “Because I believe I have been spelling that out to you ever since we met, yet it has never gotten through your thick skull.” Merlin continued while stroking his chin and shaking his head mournfully as if Arthur was just simply a lost cause.

“You can't call the crown prince that,” Arthur told him. “I could have you thrown in the dungeons.” Arthur said, but Merlin could tell he didn't seriously mean it if the slight smile making its way onto his face was any indication to go by.

“But you wouldn't,” Merlin said knowingly. “You're just too soft on me, I'm afraid.” he quipped while slyly looking towards Arthur. He knew he was probably digging himself a hole, but he just couldn't help but try and rile Arthur up. He quite enjoyed their banters, the line between royalty and servant being blurred.

“You're right, Merlin,” Arthur answered, earning a victorious grin from Merlin. It was only when Arthur continued that Merlin backtracked and gave him a horrified look. “But it has been a while since you've visited the stocks. I imagine that you must miss it terribly. And I've seen you eying the Knights armour with that look of yours. I wouldn't want to keep you away from your beloved now would I? And don't forget about—”

“I get it!” Merlin exclaimed, not wanting Arthur to continue to add to his already large load of work. “…You're a _royal_ prat.” Merlin reiterated his last statement of Arthur's character with a cheeky smile and earning a frown from Arthur. But Merlin could now see Arthur was barely holding back his amused smile now. Now if only Merlin could someday get Arthur to admit that he found him funny.

“Well, I suppose if I'm a _royal_ prat,” Arthur started with a smile that had far too many teeth. “Then I suppose I shouldn't keep you away from your forbidden love affair with the Knight’s swords as well. And I will even grant you a holiday in the stocks for one week.”

“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed with a pout both out of playful annoyance and embarrassment, Merlin already feeling the heat starting to crawl up his cheeks. Arthur, being the thick head he was, didn't realise how what he said could be interpreted differently, but Merlin certainly did. And he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh in his face or cover his face to hide his embarrassment.

“ _Mer_ lin!” Arthur exclaimed back, noticing the slight flush rising up Merlin’s face but dismissing it. It was really hard to miss on his pale skin, even if Arthur could be rather oblivious and miss certain details.

“Clotpole.” Merlin muttered to himself while looking down, a part of him hoping Arthur had caught what he said.

“What was that?” Arthur asked, knowing full well what Merlin had said but wanting him to repeat it.

“I said clotpole.” Merlin said while looking back up at Arthur, raising his voice so he could hear.

“Hmm,” Arthur hummed. “I suppose I'll change that to a two week holiday in the stocks, just for you. You deserve it.” Arthur said evilly.

“ _What?_ ” Merlin exclaimed. “ _No!_ I don't deserve any holidays!” Merlin declared, immediately regretting his words as soon as they tumbled out of his mouth.

“Oh?” Arthur asked while smirking. “I suppose you're absolutely right. No holidays for you. _Ever_. You deserve to be working all the time.” Arthur told Merlin, earning an angry huff in return. Merlin kept silent on the rest of the way into Camelot and even when they went to the stables, choosing to just keep shooting Arthur dirty looks every once and awhile. Once they were in the castle and no one was around, Arthur commented:

“You resemble a ruffled kitten.” Arthur said fondly towards Merlin.

“What!?” Merlin squawked in indignation. He looked _nothing_ like a kitten. Chuckling a lightly at Merlin's reaction, they finally stopped walking when they reached the doors to Arthur's chambers.

Opening the door and entering, Merlin was about to get Arthur's out of his dirty clothes and doing all his servant duties when a glint caught his eye. Looking to the left, Merlin widened his eyes in shock at the figure charging towards them. They were clearly an assassin—though Merlin definitely thought them a bad one—what with the knife in hand and the clothing made to blend in and out of sight. But, as the assassin came closer and closer, Merlin’s confidence that Arthur could handle them wavered.

The assassin was a sorcerer, as Merlin could see by the glow in their eyes and the words—a spell—started to come out of his mouth. On instinct, Merlin's own eyes glowed, his blue eyes turning gold, and pushed the assassin away with his magic. Their body propelling back under some invisible force, they crashed into the wall unconscious. Sighing, Merlin's relief was soon replaced with cold dread as he realised Arthur was still in the room with him. That he had just witnessed him using magic.

Turning around slowly, Merlin was met with the shocked eyes of Arthur. But that shock soon disappeared as Arthur's face flitted through a myriad of emotions. Hurt, betrayal, fear…But all those emotions were fleeting and soon replaced by one dominant emotion. _Anger_. He was full of an anger Merlin had never seen before, and he couldn't help but feel fear at Arthur's reaction. Sure, he had his doubts about Arthur accepting his magic, but seeing it first hand hurt. It was a hot, searing pain going directly into his chest.

“Get out!” Arthur shouted while reaching his hand to the hilt of his sword and palming it, as if he were contemplating whether or not he wanted to cut Merlin down. And Merlin wouldn't be able to say in full confidence that he wouldn't. It was no longer the Arthur he was bantering and teasing with just moments before that stood before him. No, it was Arthur Pendragon, the son of the number one magic hater; the son of Uther Pendragon, who stood before him.

“Wait! Arthur!” Merlin started, trying to salvage the situation despite his plummeting hopes. He sorely doubted he could get Arthur to listen to him, but he couldn't help but try and grasp at the straws. “I-I can explain! I only used it to pro—” But Arthur wasn't hearing any of it and cut Merlin off before he could finish what he was saying.

“I said get out!” Arthur shouted while taking a menacing step towards Merlin and making him step back. He had ceased palming the hilt and was now gripping it tightly, his hand turning white with how tight he gripped it. He did not draw it, however, but that did nothing to ease Merlin. Just because he was not pointing a sword at him did not mean Merlin wouldn't be cautious, as seen by how he eyed it warily as if it would be drawn any moment. He knew very well that Arthur can tend to be rather impulsive in his anger, so he was not naïve enough to believe Arthur would not turn his blade at him.

“I never want to see you ever again!” Arthur shouted at Merlin, who stumbled back as if struck by Arthur's poisonous words. And that was not too far of a stretch, for those words were very well like a physical blow to Merlin. It was actually even worse, for those words hurt Merlin more than any physical blow could.

Merlin did not say anything after that. Instead, he chose to heed Arthur's words and turned, running out of Arthur's chambers before he could see the hurt in his eyes. He did not want Arthur to know how much his words affected him. Running down the halls, Merlin let his body lead him, his mind in too much turmoil to guide him. At finally seeing the door to Gaius’s chambers, Mersin ran even faster and practically hurled himself through the door, nearly knocking Gaius over in the process.

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed in shock. “What—” he started to asked before Merlin cut him off.

“No time!” Merlin exclaimed while rushing past him to his room and started to stuff his things in a bag. “Arthur found out,” he explained in a more subdued voice when he walked out of his room. He had little possessions, so it did not take him long to pack all he would need to escape. Merlin knew he had to get out of Camelot quickly. Arthur told him to go, and while he didn't say anything about execution, he wasn't taking any chances. True, Arthur never said he would have him burning at the pyre. But then again, he never said he _wouldn't_.

“He…he did not take it well.” Merlin said with a sad smile, his voice cracking in pain. Merlin wanted to scream. To curse yell at his so called _destiny_ he had with Arthur. There was no hope of uniting Albion if he refused to accept magic as something other than evil. As something vile and deserving of punishment for any who practiced it. He was so blinded to the true nature of magic that Merlin wanted to shout in his face till he was blue to get the fact that magic was not evil through Arthur's head.

“Oh, Merlin,” Gaius sighed in sadness and embraced him, his arms encircling around him tightly. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Gaius,” Merlin told him. “It…it was only a matter of time, really.” Merlin said rather bitterly. What happened was exactly what Merlin had feared in the deepest parts of his mind. It was the reason he never ended up telling Arthur. He was a coward. But he couldn't help but think darkly that his fear was well placed. That he was not wrong to keep such a secret from Arthur, because Arthur didn't value their friendship enough to look past his beliefs over magic.

“Be safe.” Gaius told Merlin and reached his arms around Merlin, embracing him tightly.  
Closing his eyes to try and stop himself from crying, Merlin returned the embrace just as tightly. He was very aware that this might be the last thing he saw Gaius. And it only made him squeeze tighter. Almost painfully so.

“I will.” Merlin nearly sobbed out. Loosening his arms, Merlin gave one last squeeze before letting go and fleeing the room. Rushing down the halls with a heavy heart, Merlin exited with a heavy heart. Taking one last glance at the castle with a longing look, Merlin turned his head back around and looked down. Clenching his fists tightly, Merlin started a mantra in his, remembering what Arthur had once told him.

_No man is worth your tears,_ Merlin thought. _No man is worth your tears._ He started walking, getting closer and closer towards the kingdom gates. _No man is—oh, who am I fooling?_ Merlin thought despairingly and finally let his tears run down his face, trying to at least hold in his sobs. He managed to keep silent, but he ended up hiccuping quietly instead of sobbing. It only made Merlin more upset and wish he stuck to sobbing.

Continuing to walk with his head bowed down, he failed to notice that someone was approaching him, pushing past the people in the streets uncaringly. “Merlin!” Gawain yelled, waving his hand to try and gain his attention. “Merlin?” Gawain said more hesitantly when he came within reaching distance of Merlin, obviously noticing his distress. “What's wrong?”

Reaching his hand up, Merlin roughly rubbed at his eyes and looked up, trying to play his sadness off. Seeing Gawain’s facial expression, Merlin knew he was failing at it.  
Failing spectacularly.

“Nah-nothing,” Merlin said while avoiding his eyes, internally wincing at how pathetic he sounding. “There's nothing wrong with me.” Clearing his throat, Merlin told Gawain the lie much more clearly. He really needed to learn how to lie more effectively.

“Sure,” Gawain said with a snort. “And I don't like sex,” Gawain said while pointedly looking at Merlin. “Now, what's wrong?” Gawain said more seriously.

Hesitating, Merlin debated on what to say. His secret was already out to Arthur. What was one more? He was leaving Camelot anyway, so he might as well. Steeling his nerves, he looked into Gawain's eyes and opened his mouth. But as he tried to speak, no words came out, Merlin's throat choking up and terminating whatever he was going to say.

Concern immediately appeared on Gawain's face and he approached closer to Merlin. “Merlin?” Gawain asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“Ah-Arthur hates me.” Merlin mumbled and looked down. And while that wasn't nearly the half of what happened, that was all Merlin could get out. He just couldn't manage to tell Gawain about his magic. He couldn't bear for another of his friends to hate him.

“What?” Gawain asked. “What do you mean by that?” Gawain asked. But Merlin did not explain any further. Instead, he felt horrified when he felt a new rush of tears come to the surface. Hastily bringing his hands up, Merlin attempted to wipe them away to no avail.

Glancing around, Gawain realised that they were in no place for Merlin to have a breakdown and grabbed his arm. Dragging him away from the crowded streets, Gawain took Merlin to a more secluded place and tried to get more answers. But at looking at Merlin's stricken face, Gawain discarded that idea for the moment and gave in to his urge to hug him. Reaching out his his arms, Gawain took Merlin into his arms and squeezed him tightly.

“Please don't ask about anything more.” Merlin whispered, relaxing into the warmth of Gawain's arms. Merlin really started to like hugs.

“Alright,” Gawain said reluctantly. “But is there at least something I could do for you?” Gawain added, not willing to just leave everything alone.

Merlin started an internal debate at Gawain's question, warring within himself. “Could you…” Merlin started before shaking his head. “No, I…” But no matter how he tried to phrase his question, Merlin just couldn't find how he wanted to ask Gwaine for what he need.

“Merlin,” Gawain said and pulled back from their hug, looking into Merlin’s eyes. “You can tell me.” he said seriously with sincere eyes.

“I…I could use a horse.” Merlin looked down and said a little sheepishly while picking at the bottom of his tunic.

The response was not exactly what Gawain expected, but he wasn't going to ask. “You can use mine.” Gawain said while pulling Merlin tows the stables, eager to do whatever he could to help Merlin in his distress.

“Um, Gawain,” Merlin said. “I need a horse that um, that doesn't need to be returned.” Merlin admitted.

Gawain slightly paused for a second before continuing towards where the stables were. “You can keep my horse.” He said.

“No!” Merlin protested. “I—”

“You _will_ keep my horse.” Gawain said with no room to protest. After that Merlin stayed silent all the way to the stables. Going in, they stopped at one of the stalls which housed a white horse. Opening the stall, Gawain stepped in and petted the horse with affection.

“This is Gringolet,” Gawain told Merlin. “Take care of him, okay?” Gawain said while continuing to pet Gringolet. There was a minute hint of sadness in Gawain's eyes at giving Gringolet away, but Merlin needed a horse and he wanted to give him one that he knew would keep him safe. He knew he could trust Gringolet to watch out for Merlin. He was a wonderful and brave and loyal horse which would protect Merlin to his death.

“I could always take someone else's horse,” Merlin said at having noticed how attached to Gringolet Gawain was. “I've already committed a drastic crime. What's one more?” Merlin mumbled to himself. But Gawain ended up hearing him anyway.

“I will not ask,” Gawain said. “If you committed a crime, then it was certainly for a very good reason,” Gawain said with complete confidence. “And I won't take no for an answer. I want you to be in safe…hooves.” Gawain said, having had to pause and think at the end of his sentence.

Setting up the reins and saddle, Gawain gave Gringolet one last pat and handed the reins to Merlin. Eyes starting to water up again, Merlin hugged Gawain one last time before turning around and mounting the horse. Walking to face Gringolet, Gawain leaned over to the horse's face and whispered to them. “Take care of him,” Gawain said, making sure his voice was too low for Merlin to hear. “I'll be back to meet you guys as soon as I can.” Gawain promised. Standing back, Gawain looked up at Merlin.

“Safe travels.” Gawain told Merlin while nodding his towards him.

“Thank you, Gawain,” Merlin said while nodding his head back. “You're…you're a wonderful friend, and I will never forget you.” Merlin vowed, forever grateful for Gawain's unwavering faith in him and willingness to still aid him despite knowing he had committed a crime.

Kicking Gringolts side, Merlin set off at a fast pace and set for the gates, knowing that he had stayed in Camelot for far too long already. He was truly pushing his luck. Especially if Arthur went to warn the guards or tell his father. Reaching the gates in no time, Merlin exited the kingdom of Camelot without looking back, doubting that he would ever step foot there again. How wrong he was.

*

Staring out of the window, Arthur watched as Merlin ran out of the castle before stopping and taking one glance back. For a moment, he thought that Merlin was actually looking at _him_ , but that thought was soon dismissed. Looking at Merlin, Arthur watched as his figure disappeared into the crowds on the streets. It was probably the last time he would see him. And at that thought, Arthur couldn't help but feel a flare of pain in his chest. But that was soon overshadowed by anger and betrayal.

He couldn't believe how stupid he was. Letting a _servant_ of all things to get so close. Close enough that his betrayal would hurt more than anything else that had happened before. And he hadn't even suspected a thing. That Merlin was a _sorcerer_. Probably one that had come to Camelot to destroy it. That was the only reason sorcerers ever came to Camelot. But he couldn't help but doubt as well. Merlin could have destroyed Camelot so many times. He was the physician's apprentice. He could of just of poisoned all of Camelot. Or killed Arthur a number of times. Or even killed his father. But Arthur shook his head of those thoughts before any hope could start to form. He couldn't afford to hope and then be wrong.

Turning from the window, Arthur started to undress himself, doing what Merlin would have done if not for the assassin. Grabbing clothes from the wardrobe, not even caring if it looked decent for one of his standing, Arthur dressed himself. And at that moment, his anger washed away and all that was left was emptiness. The feeling of being all alone. The bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth. The questioning himself for acting so rashly. He was so lost in thought that he missed the door opening. And that was quite astonishing in of itself, considering they were practically ripped open.

In emerged the pissed off form of Gawain. His face was contorted in rage. He had no idea what transpired between Merlin and Arthur, but he knew he would never forgive Arthur for making Merlin leave Camelot. He had no words for how angry he was. But he certainly had words for Arthur. And he didn't care one bit that he was the crown prince or that he could be thrown in the dungeons or executed.

“What did you do!?” Gawain shouted at Arthur.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, honestly confused. He didn't know yet that Gawain was talking about Merlin, and was instead wracking his brain to figure out what Gawain was talking about.

“Don't play innocent!” Gawain shouted, his temper flaring to new heights. “What did you do to make Merlin leave!?”

At Gawain's words, Arthur felt his own temper flair at the mention of that sorcerer, his anger towards Merlin rekindled. “You mean that _traitor?_ ” Arthur said in cold contempt.

“Traitor?” Gawain paused and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean by that?”

“He's a traitor to Camelot!” Arthur yelled. “He is a sorcerer. Practising right under our noses, plotting to destroy us all.” Arthur said, not fully believing the words that were coming out of his mouth. But he was so angry he was just spewing out what his father would believe of Merlin.

“You banished him because he was a _sorcerer!?_ ” Gawain asked incredulously. “You'll throw away your friendship because he practiced _magic!?_ ” He was beyond pissed now. To think that Arthur would break off a friendship for something like that. Sure, it was illegal in Camelot, but he did not share the same views as Uther’s and now what seems to be Arthur's hate of anything magic. He doubted Merlin was doing anything bad with his magic when Arthur found out.

“He's a _sorcerer!_ ” Arthur yelled as if that explained it all. That that was a valid excuse for what he had done. But Arthur was grasping futilely at excuses to use. He himself did not truly know what he was thinking when he had told Merlin to leave.

“Have you seen him do anything bad?” Gawain asked. “When you found out, was Merlin using his magic to do any wrong?” Gawain probed, trying to find answers to Arthur's actions as much as Arthur was.

“Well, no…” Arthur said. “But sorcery is illegal in Camelot. I should have let him burn! It's the law!” Arthur said in a fit of rage, no really meaning what he said. He truly wouldn't be able to watch Merlin burn. He wasn't even going to tell his father about what Merlin really was. He was more so planning o giving an excuse on why Merlin had to leave his services.

By then, Gawain didn't even look at Arthur. “I asked you,” Gawain said in a hard voice. “Did Merlin use his magic for wrong?” Arthur just kept silent, not answering him. Walking to the door, Gawain said one last thing before he left.

“I renounce my knightship. I will not serve someone who will treat loyalty and friendship like nothing.” And with that, Gawain left, the door shutting loudly, leaving Arthur to brood alone in his chambers alone.

Once Gawain left, Arthur whispered to the air with a lost and heartbroken face. “You don't need to tell me I made a mistake, Gawain,” he said brokenly. “I already know.” he admitted, knowing he could no longer deny what he was trying to deny anymore. He had acted rashly and without thought, so blinded by his anger that he threw away something irreplaceable. And he had no one to blame but himself.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but oh well. What can you do?

# Chapter 2

 

Riding on Gringolet, Merlin rode fast, pushing Gringolet to his limits. He wanted to make sure he was close to the borders of Camelot before he would stop to rest. He had to be under the assumption that Arthur had told his father and people were sent after him for being a sorcerer. Merlin did not know if that was actually true, but he had to act as if it was true just in the event that people actually _were_ after him. He certainly wasn't in the mood for burning to death. It was better to expect the worst and prepare for that than to believe the best and be unprepared for the worst. And the worst was certainly starting to look bleak for Merlin. The choices were either burn on the pyre or freeze to death once winter came.

It was already mid autumn, and Merlin was not looking forward to living on the road while under assault by snow and ice. He could already feel how inefficient his current clothes were from the cool air that had whipped by and seeped through his clothes like they were paper when he was galloping away from Camelot. Sure, he could go to Erebor, his home village, but he was still under the assumption that Arthur had told Uther. He could take no chances of bringing his problems to Erebor. He couldn't do that to his mother. And he absolutely wouldn't put her in danger if he had anything to do about it. He could survive living on the road for a while. It's not like it would be too different from his trips with Arthur outside of Camelot. It would be just like that except a little longer. He could always see a few more sights anyway.

Trees blurred past him quickly, and on occasion Merlin had some very close calls with the low branches. But that did nothing to slow him. He rode for a few hours before he actually stopped for a break. And it was only going to be a short break to go to the bathroom and to feed Gringolet. Then he would resume on Gringolet until he was sure he had at least a good day or two ahead of anyone after him. And it wouldn't be too tricky, as there was sure to be a group of people that would be sent after him. And with a group, they would be slowed down by each other. Merlin, on the other hand, could continue to go on, not having anyone to look out after but Gringolet and himself.

Dismounting from Gringolet, Merlin nearly collapsed face first onto the ground. His legs were painfully sore and he was already regretting pushing himself so far. It was going to be hell in the morning. Going about his business, Merlin returned to Gringolet and reached into his pack. He had a small amount of food, but it would be sufficient enough just till they exited Camelot’s borders. Pulling out a carrot and apple, Merlin fed Gringolet and then ate the apple himself, giving the core to Gringolet.

Looking up sharply, Merlin searched the skies and saw the dark clouds approaching in the distance. His attention had been caught by the sound of thunder. It was just his luck that a storm was approaching when he had to get out of Camelot as soon as he could. It was far enough that he could run from it for a good while longer, but he knew he would only be delaying the inevitable. It was heading directly on his course, and he had to sleep and rest sometime.

Brushing his hands off on his pants, Merlin stood up, prepared to get going again to try and attempt the impossible. Outrun a storm. Walking towards Gringolet, Merlin could have sworn he saw indignation on the horse's face. “I know,” Merlin told Gringolet, as if he understood that Gringolet didn't want to be riding so soon. “It's just until we are out of Camelot’s borders. Then we can rest and you can have all the food you could want.” Merlin promised, fully intending to keep it. He was grateful to Gawain for giving him such a magnificent steed, and he would not return such kindness by neglecting Gringolet.

Pulling himself up onto the saddle, Merlin patted Gringolet on the side of his head before kicking his sides. “Hyah!” And by Merlin's command, Gringolet started off galloping once more. It was once again a few hours before they stopped again. But this time it was because they needed to find shelter. Despite delaying the eventual storm for a good while more, it would be upon them very soon. The storm had finally gained on them, and they needed to find shelter. Fast. Merlin could already feel the wind picking up and the sound of thunder and lightning even closer.

Slowing Gringolet into a walk, Merlin scanned his surroundings for somewhere to rest for the night. The skies were now a dark grey, and Merlin knew that with his luck, the rain would not hold out for him very long. Twenty minutes at tops, he would say. And even that was pushing it. Walking around, Merlin continued his search for shelter to no avail. With each minute passing Merlin was becoming more and more worried that he would not find shelter in time. The clouds were already getting darker and he could have sworn he felt a drop of rain hitting him on the face. The wind had also picked up even more, chilling him to the bones. He had to hurry before it was too late. But it was with immense relief that he finally spotted a small cave which was big enough to fit Gringolet and himself in.

Steering Gringolet to the left, Merlin approached the cave slowly. Right when he reached the mouth of it he dismounted the horse, wanting to check the cave for any inhabitants first. Walking slowly, Merlin stepped in and leaned his body forward. The cave was dark but dry, the dark grey walls full of somewhat smooth bumps and irregular protrusions of stone. Raising his hand, Merlin summoned a ball of light which he used to float around the cave and reveal anything he might have missed with his eyesight. It floated deeper into the cave until it reached the end and went along the walls just in case something was blending in.

At seeing nothing amiss, Merlin tugged on Gringolet’s reigns and they entered the cave. Pausing for a second, Merlin tried to figure out where he was going to put him, for there wasn't really anywhere e could tie him up. Pursing his lips for a moment, Merlin finally decided to try his hand at manipulating stone. Setting his bag down, Merlin opened his bag and digged around for his spellbook. Smiling triumphantly, Merlin pulled out the large, leather bound book and sat down with it on his lap, the floating ball of light hovering over his shoulder. Opening it, Merlin searched for a spell he could use. Though it proved to be harder than it would seem, for Merlin just couldn't seem to find where he would make rock shoot up from the ground or something similar. Groaning in frustration, Merlin looked up at Gringolet.

“Where am I going to put you?” Merlin asked the horse, not really expecting for him to answer in any way. And his expectations were proven right when Gringolet just snorted, not helping him in the least. “Well, I suppose I can leave you untied.” Merlin muttered to himself while eying Gringolet in contemplation. He didn't think Gawain would have taught Gringolet that poorly where if he were to be untethered to something he would run off. He also was pretty sure that Gringolet wouldn't want to go racing out into the storm that was fast approaching. And it was only for one night. Only until the rain would let off and the storm would pass.

Nodding at his reasoning, Merlin turned to the middle of the cave. Casting a spell, Merlin created a fire in front of him, entirely too lazy to go and gather firewood outside or risk getting caught in the rain. Even if he could spell himself dry, he just didn't feel like scrambling around in the rain and gathering wet chunks of wood when he could avoid that by using magic. He was no longer in the presence of Arthur or anyone else, so his reasoning was perfectly justified and he could get away with it too.

Sighing happily at the warmth the fire gave off, Merlin settled down onto his side and closed his eyes, knowing he would have a long few days ahead of him. He had no idea how he was going to find himself food with how terrible he was at hunting, magic or no magic. It was not long before Merlin drifted off. It also was not long before Merlin was woken once more to the sound of another pair of hooves echoing through the caves.

Shooting up quickly, Merlin had a mini panic attack while searching for the intruder. Surely Arthur’s knights couldn't have found him so soon? He was sure he had made enough distance to safely sleep for the night. It couldn't be possible that they found him so quickly. Especially not in the storm that was raging outside. It would stop anyone in their tracks. Unless Arthur had only set out one knight? But he wouldn't. One knight would be useless against a sorcerer, and Arthur would certainly know that. Then how was he found?

“Calm down, Merlin!” Gawain's voice pierced through Merlin's panicked thoughts. Quickly, Merlin's panic soon morphed into confusion as Merlin looked up and was met with the soaking wet form of Gawain. He was completely soaked to the bone and he was very muddy as well. Looking over to the left, Merlin saw a brown horse soaked and muddy as well standing by Gringolet.

“Gawain?” Merlin asked slightly fearful. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not. He must be. There was no possible way that Gawain could have followed him in such harsh weather. But the evidence was there. Or more accurately, dropping onto his face, for Gawain was standing very close to Merlin and dripping all over him.

“Merlin.” Gawain replied with a smile and started to reach for him. But Merlin moved away from Gawain's reaching arms, earning a confused and slightly hurt look from Gawain. Merlin had no wish to be soaked and covered in mud as well.

“One second,” Merlin told Gawain while casting two spells, one which dried Gawain and one which removed the mud that covered him. “Okay, now we can hug.” Merlin said while standing up and smiling. Gawain smiled in response to Merlin’s actions, hardly phased by the blatant use of magic on him. Instead he continued with his motion to hug him, wrapping his arms around Merlin tightly for a brief hug.

Once Gawain released him, Merlin went to sit down, Gawain following his lead. Looking at Gawain's face searchingly, Merlin gave him a questioning look. “What are you doing here?” Merlin asked in a curious voice, truly wanting to know what Gawain was doing there with him so far out of Camelot. He was not mad, just confused. And a little happy as well, if the tingly and warm feeling he felt was anything to go by.

“I couldn't leave you alone to starve to death, now could I?” Gawain said. “I know how terrible at hunting you are.” Gawain told him much to Merlin's embarrassment. He never could manage to hunt correctly after so long. You would think he'd get the hang of it after so many hunting trips, but nope. It was all for naught.

“You're going to be on the road for a while if you're going to be sticking around.” Merlin warned.

“I count on it.” Gawain answered in reply, earning a big smile from Merlin. Gawain, while not Arthur, had earned some fondness from Merlin.

During his time serving Arthur, Merlin had come to love him. He hadn't done anything about it, knowing that there was way too many obstacles—ones that were impossibly enormous—standing in the way of it becoming something more. He also didn't want to ruin the friendship they had. Though that was redundant now that Arthur probably hated him. So he had kept his love hidden and hoped that it would some day disappear. It hadn't, of course, only growing stronger with time. But When he met and spent time with Gawain, he had found a fondness for him creeping up on him. The pain of loving Arthur and not being able to do anything about it had started to subside a little bit.

Laying down once more by the warm fire, Merlin closed his eyes. He needed to sleep for tomorrow's journey. Despite Merlin's happiness at Gawain's arrival, he was also a little annoyed at being woken up in the middle of the night. His consciousness starting to drift off, Merlin was surprised to feel arms encircle his waist and pull him to a hard chest. Opening his eyes again, Merlin looked up at Gawain.

“It's warmer this way.” Gawain answered Merlin's silent question. Nodding his head and closing his eyes once more, Merlin took his answer without question, too tired to really complain. It was moments later that Merlin drifted off into sleep.

*

Standing by his window, Arthur looked past the walls of Camelot as if if he looked hard enough he would be able to see Merlin in the distance. He was worried. Very worried. The dark clouds that had started to roll in around mid evening had become a storm around late evening and still continued a little bit even now. The storm was violent, the rain pounding on the streets and wind whipping through sharply. The thunder and lightning was no better, lighting up the sky and giving off defeating cracks every few moments. And despite how hard he tried not to, he found his thoughts going to Merlin. It was a terrible terrible storm they were having, and Arthur couldn't help but hope Merlin would find shelter before it reached him. Or better yet, that he was already in a shelter and fast asleep by a warm fire, never to be wiser of the dark storm heading his way. But Arthur knew that that was just an empty hope, knowing very much of how frequent Merlin would stay up later than what was good for one's health. And then he found his thoughts turning to Gawain.

He was worried about him as well, but Arthur couldn't help but not worry about him as much as he did Merlin. He had left Camelot not too long after Merlin had, asking for a horse to take and galloping out of Camelot. Arthur knew Gawain had went after Merlin. He couldn't say entirely how he knew, but he just did. Merlin and Gawain's relationship had always been close. Even when they first met. Gawain would always drag Merlin away to the tavern where they would drink and hang out all merrily. Arthur hated it. Something scalding hot and vile would be in his mouth whenever Merlin was with Gawain. Even when he had no right to feel like he did. But he couldn't help it.

The line between prince and servant had long blurred between Merlin and him. Their relationship had turned into a strong friendship and then it had soon become something more. Something forbidden. Something that Arthur wished could be acted on, but knew couldn't be. He was a prince, and Merlin was a servant. He was also a sorcerer. And while Arthur had come to terms with that, it was too late to change things. He had cast Merlin away, and now Gawain had went after him to be there for him. Be there for Merlin instead him. He wanted to punch Gawain for the unfairness of his situation. That he could just go off after Merlin when he had to stay in Camelot. That he had the luxury to do so.

He was the crown prince of Camelot, and despite disobeying his father plenty of times before, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it this time. He had told his father that Merlin's mother was sick and that he was going back to live in Erebor to care for her. He couldn't very well go off after him to bring him back. His father would be instantly suspicious and question his actions. He also had many duties to attend to as well. Now that his father was getting older, he had been giving Arthur more duties to ease him into and prepare him for becoming king himself. He couldn't just abandon those duties. Especially when some of them were rather vital to certain relations between Camelot and another Kingdom. He was being tested by his father, and he didn't want to let him down. But despite being tested, Arthur refused to take on another servant.

He didn't want another servant to replace Merlin. He didn't want another servant who would call him sire and comply to his every wish. One that wouldn't talk back or be anything other than a perfect servant. His father had been against him not having a servant, but Arthur kept firm in his decision. He could dress and wake himself perfectly fine without another person doing it for him. And he would clean his room and armour and swords too if he had to get across to his father that he didn't want a servant.

Turning from looking out the window, Arthur walked to his bed. Pulling back the covers, Arthur got in and covered himself, turning to his side. He still couldn't get his mind off of Merlin even now. He had made the worst mistake in his entire life. He was so _stupid;_ so _blind_. And now, laying in his bed, mind plagued with thoughts of only Merlin, Arthur couldn't help but feel that he had never been lonelier in his entire life.

 


End file.
